Ghost, Friend, Lover, Assassin
by Tigress in da room
Summary: Since she was a girl, young Jessabelle has found family at the Dark Brotherhood. when she came of age, she was chosen by the Night Mother as a second Listener, and ever since she has been able to summon Lucien Lachance.Her adventures take her far, and he becomes more to her. But without a body, he is ntohing but a spectre. can she find a way to free him, or will he remain bound?
1. Chapter 1

Ghost, Friend, Lover, Assassin: Chapter 1: Meeting Lucien

The young girl was nervous and excited in equal measure. Today was the day her mother would take her to the Sanctuary. Young Jessabelle was only just thirteen, but she was much older than her years. She knew how to swing a sword, shoot a bow, and brew deadly poisons. And as the daughter of the Dragonborn, she had the power and strength of dragons swimming in her blood.

She was tall for her age as well. She was unsure, but she had a feeling that her father had been an Altmer, and her mother was a tall Nord anyway. So the pale girl towered above all the other children, and she thought so much deeper than them. She was unsure as to what she wanted to do with her life, but she wanted adventure. And as all thirteen year old girls do, she wanted to marry a prince in shining armour.

For years, she had known her mother was Listener for the Dark Brotherhood, and she had been enthralled by the tales she was told of. Her mother had ventured into dark sewers, Imperial camps, pirate ships, and even the palace of the Emperor of Tamriel himself. In her infinite imagination, she could picture the gleaming fabrics, creaking floorboards or nests of Skeevers with ease. Once in a while, her mother had been followed home by a spirit. She knew little about him other than his name; Lucien. From what she could gather, he was something of a companion to her mother on her travels, and he too was (or had been) a member of the Dark Brotherhood.

He never said anything to her, but Jace, as she liked to call herself, got the impression that he was curious about her. But he never spoke to her, or gave her his name. He was tall and silent, and Jace found him a little frightening. But Mother had told her that when she became a woman, she would take her to the Sanctuary in Dawnstar, and she could see for herself the life her mother lived.

So when Jessabelle had experienced her first moon-bleed, she was excited. As she had been told to, she filled her small clothes with mammoth wool, and when her mother noticed the supply had begun to dwindle twice as fast, she smiled to herself and promised her daughter that, come 9th of Heartfire, she would take her daughter to see the closest family she had.

And so, the year drew on, and by the time she became 14, Jace's figure had swelled and narrowed to the slim and soft form of an Altmer woman. To her disappointment, her ears grew pointed at the top, and her skin took on a curious golden shimmer. She had hoped to take after her Nord mother, and be strong like a warrior, but her Elven father, nowhere to be seen, had apparently given her stronger blood. And with the coming of her Elven blood, she felt curious power begin to settle in her bones. It was different to the dragon blood, but in some ways just as powerful. She had tried to use this new power once, but instead of clearing the skies as she expected it to, the power had manifested as an ethereal wolf. Jessabelle noted that he had the same blue translucency as Lucien.

But it was new to her, and Jace left the strange power deep inside herself until she knew what to do with it. The day had come though, and Jessabelle was certain to look her best. She brushed out her long white hair until it hung in gentle waves to her waist, and she wore her finest cloak. The dark blue hood was made of enchanted satin, impervious to fire, and she fastened it at her throat with a bright silver brooch. She wore a dress of the same dark blue, and the soft hide boots that had been a birthday gift that muffled her steps. She dabbed rose water behind her ears, and knowing that she was going to see assassins, she kept an enchanted steel sword at her hip and a simple but strong bow across her back.

Now finally ready, Jace left the house and stepped out into the snow drifted streets of Dawnstar. She easily swung herself up onto the back of her tall grey horse, and followed after her mother, who graced the back of Shadowmere.

The journey was relatively short, and the snow had begun to fall gently around them by the time they reached the Sanctuary. The door was guarded by a skull, which bore a handprint of blood, and at her Mother's encouragement, she approached the door and was most surprised when it hissed at her:

'What is life's greatest illusion?'

She thought about it for a moment, and then considered herself. Daughter of a Nord and High Elf. But with the courageous blood of dragons. She smirked and replied;

'Innocence my brother'

The lock clicked, and warm candlelight flickered out onto the snow. Her mother walked in, and Jessabelle followed.

The door swung shut behind them, and after years of waiting, Jace was finally inside the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary.

~0O0~

The passages were bright with candlelight, and they wound downwards and around until they came upon a balcony that looked out over the main hall. Jace could hear someone using a hammer and anvil, and there was a small garden in the corner of the balcony in which various poisonous plants grew. Her mother led her past a great closed coffin, but Jace could hear a near silent whisper from within;

'Daughter of the Listener; Welcome home'

Jace gave the coffin a wide berth, and silently followed her mother down the steps. There was a great wooden table, lined with all manner of foods. And there were candles lit down the centre. A few people were seated at the table, namely a young girl and a Redguard man. Jessabelle's mother put her fingers to her lips and gave a shrill whistle. In a few minutes, enough people had arrived to fill the table. There were several Nords, a quiet Altmer man, an Argonian and several initiates. Everyone seemed to know why they had been summoned, and Jace blushed furiously when she realised that it was something of a party.

It was the only she had ever had, and Jace was thankful for the shadow of her hood. The hall was filled with much clinking of mead mugs, and laughter bubbled here and there. There was only one seat left unfilled, and Jace wondered at this, but she found herself in good company. She immediately felt at ease here, and all her impressions of assassins being cold, stoic people were melted away by the joviality and laughter ringing around the table.

As the evening progressed, one of the Nords and a Dark Elf Initiate to the Brotherhood left the table for contracts. Jace learned that the Redguard was called Nazir, and for a good hour she listened to the stories he told in his deep voice of the sands of the great Alik'r Desert, and the various towns and tribes that lived there. The quiet Altmer, who only named himself as Strider, proved himself to be a great trickster, and he made things appear and disappear from the table as quickly as a dove flies.

The Argonian told tales of how he had been but a jeweller before he joined the Brotherhood, and he gifted her with a silver necklace that allowed any who wore it to breathe underwater. She was given several small gifts, and they were all precious to her. The young girl, Babette, who had turned out to be a vampire, gave her a recipe for an invisibility potion, and Nazir gifted her with a curved sword much like his own. A Khajiit Initiate gave her a book about a young prince turned thief, and she learnt many other things, such as how to draw her bow silently and how best to pickpocket someone.

Jace was uncertain as to whether she would need these skills, but they all seemed to welcome her, and she felt as if she were a member of the family. But after several hours of feasting and laughter, a whisper sounded over the room, and everyone who remained left for night-time contracts, and Jessabelle's mother took her leave to speak with the Night Mother.

'Is that who is in the coffin then?' she asked

Her mother nodded, and explained;

'I am the Listener for the Dark Brotherhood. Whenever someone places a contract, we get it through the Night Mother. She only ever speaks to the Listener though'

'Oh. There must be more than one though, because she talked to me when we went past'

For some reason this drew a quiet gasp from everyone else, but Jace's mother only smiled wider, and held her goblet to the air;

'All toast to the new-found Listener, may her reach be far!'

And before everyone left, they toasted, and congratulated Jace on having been chosen. When everyone had left, Jessabelle's mother laid her hands gently upon her shoulders, and spoke quietly with her;

'This is truly the best I can hope for, Jessabelle. Because the Night Mother spoke to you, you automatically became a member of the Dark Brotherhood, and now I know that you will always have a place to stay, and a family to live with. And because you are a Listener, I must teach you a spell. You may not have had much use of Magick, but this spell will mean that you will have a companion. Always.'

And her mother gave her a heavy book, bound in dark leather. She left Jace to the empty hall, and the half-Elf gently opened the tome. It was written in her mother's writing, and as soon as Jace began to read the lines, the book burst into flames in her hands, and she knew deep inside her the spell that the tome contained.

Unsure of how to use it, she called upon the spell and cast it up the same way she would cast a Shout. In front of her, a great portal materialised.

And who should emerge, other than Lucien himself.

Jace stood stock still in surprise, and he stepped out of the portal silently. He spoke with a deep voice, and said;

'Welcome home, Jessabelle. We have much to discuss'

And with that, the spectre reached out, and offered his hand to her.

And Jessabelle was helpless but to take it.

**AN: So I play Skyrim religiously, and I cast Spectral Assassin so much, it's like he's a companion. So I decided to write a little fic, which I am planning to make multi-chapter. There are very few fictions out there pairing Lucien and the Dovahkiin, so I figured why not add another?**

**Reviews welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	2. Chapter 2: Trusting a Killer

**AN: Thanks to Ekendall1216 for being the first to favourite and follow, you are awesome XD**

Ghost, Friend, Lover, Assassin: Chapter 2: Trusting a Killer

Jessabelle felt Lucien's hand in hers, which was surprising as he looked about as substantial as a spring breeze. And instead of his skin being cold and icy, as she might have expected it to be, it was just a little cool, as if he had washed his hands in an icy stream not a minute ago.

In that moment, Jace knew she could trust him. He was an assassin, a companion, and a legend. She would never be alone in her times of need, and any lingering doubts she had about the Brotherhood vanished.

She elegantly stepped towards him, and he dropped her hand. She immediately stuffed it into her pocket, to save from a blush she would struggle to hide. With his other hand, Lucien gestured towards the various passages and asked;

'Would you like the tour?'

Jessabelle smiled, and nodded. As if they had known each other forever, the two walked side by side down the passages, Jace asking questions here and there, and Lucien telling his stories. He kept his hands behind his back, as if he were afraid to put them anywhere else. Jace tried to reign herself in, but eventually the questions tumbled out;

'Why can I summon you?'

As soon as she had said it, she clapped her hands over her mouth as if it had been some gross, personal question. But Lucien just laughed, and it was a throaty, rumbling laugh, and continued down the passage. Jessabelle stared after him, and then jogged to catch up. He looked down at her, as if expecting her to have left him, and continued with his tales;

'Ah, that is a great question my friend. But ultimately, it was Sithis' and the Dread Father's will that allows you to summon me. You are a Listener, so I am bound to you. Whenever you need me, just call, and I shall be there, be it wind or rain or warm summer sun, you are never without an ally'

This was of great comfort to Jessabelle, and she followed him until they reached a hatch which led up to the surface.

'How long are you bound to me?' Jace had little knowledge of Magick, but she knew that it all wore off eventually.

He looked at her curiously, as if surprised by her questions.

'Forever, Listener. As long as I am needed, I must stay'

'But don't you hate being bound to this Earth? It must be so much more…elevating in the Void?'

His shoulders slumped a little, and Jessabelle feared for causing him discomfort. But he straightened up almost straight away, and looked to her again;

'Perhaps someday, when you are older, I will tell you why it is so much better to be bound here, instead of remaining in the Void'

And with that, Jessabelle's and Lucien's friendship was forged, stronger than the steel of stars.

~0O0~

Jessabelle huffed as the staff connected sharply with her own. The summer sun blazed down, and she had decided that if she didn't find something to do with herself soon, she would go mad. So she had set about making herself ready for adventures, and training was a huge part in this.

The large oak tree she was sparring beneath cast stunning green light upon the long grass below, and she flicked a strand of hair out of her face as her opponent circled. It had been a year since she had met Lucien, but a lot had changed since then.

At the spectre's suggestion, she changed her name at her coming of age as many Altmer did, despite the fact she only had half blood, and instead of being known as Jessabelle or Jace, she was now known as Elanin Bright-Blade. It also annoyed her to no end that Lucien had taken to calling her Elle as a nickname. But it was better than half-pint she mused.

As Lucien circled staff in hand, Elanin matched him, bare feet moving lightly over the grass. She wore only a simple blue tunic and billowing trousers in the hot summer, and it felt good to rebel against her mother, who insisted she wear skirts or dresses.

On an impulse, Elanin drove her staff into the ground and flicked the end up, spraying dirt and grass into the spirit's eyes. He halted and rubbed at them for but a moment and Elanin took that opportunity to leap upon his back and hold her staff across his throat, leaning back with all her weight. She kept her grip until Lucien dropped his staff in defeat, and Elanin proudly announced;

'I win!' and she leapt from his back. Immediately Lucien straightened up, and he rubbed at his throat where she had begun to crush his windpipe. Somewhat irritably, and yet proudly also, he snatched her staff away from her and vanished them back to the Void before she could wreak any more havoc.

Elanin danced and twirled around in victory. It was not often that she could beat the spectral assassin. Lucien was proud to say that he knew her in that moment. Her white hair flew and tumbled in the wind, and her shimmering gold skin was dappled by the sunlight. Her every movement spoke of grace only an Elf possessed, and yet her frame bore the strength and sturdiness of a Nord. Lucien knew that whatever she chose to do with her life, she would go far. And all of Skyrim would know her name.

But her joy was apparently short lived, as the 15 year old slumped down on the grass, her shoulders hunched morosely. Lucien dropped to his knees in front of her, worried as to why her large, amber eyes were leaking tears down her pale face. She rested her head in her hands, and her elbows upon her knees, and she did not move save for an occasional sob. Knowing only one thing that caused her to shift moods so quickly, Lucien gently put a hand on her shoulder, and quietly stated;

'If you are hurting, I am afraid a man such as I is not the right person to talk to'

Elanin raised her eyes to give him a death glare, and Lucien cursed himself a hundred times over for assuming she was bleeding. She mumbled into her hands;

'No it is not that. It just burns me that you are the only person I can really be myself around; you truly understand me even though you have known me for little more than a year. As pathetic as it sounds, I wish I had a man to call my own, the same as all the other girls my age do'

Lucien tutted, and wrapped her up in a firm hug. He felt her warm tears begin to stain his shoulder, and he murmured in her ear;

'Do not speak of such things! It should be a source of pride that you require no one but yourself in your times of need, and that you are stronger than them to not need a man to guide you through your life. It has been many years since I shared your feelings, but trust me, I have never forgotten them.'

She heaved a great sigh, and by the look on her face, Lucien could tell she was having one of her rare, but to be reckoned with, strops. Her brows knitted ever so slightly, and she chewed upon her lip hard enough to almost make it bleed. She threw his arms from around her, and she rose and turned away, rejecting everything.

'I simply find it endlessly irritating that I am infinitely stronger, smarter and more capable than them, yet girls and boys alike shun me and I am left alone in the cold' she turned to him with vehemence burning in her eyes, and she spat her next words with venom;

'It was not until the other day that I found out that nearly everyone my age has lain with another, and yet I have not even had my first kiss! I struggle to understand what is so obviously repulsive about me sometimes!'

'Oh dear Gods' Lucien muttered beneath his breath, pinching his brows tiredly. He threw out his arms in exasperation, and turned around in a circle to encompass the meadow, nearby Riften, all of Tamriel in his reach.

'I am not the one to talk to about such…feelings. Only a few times in my own youth did I share your burn, and I have long since ignored it! But in my eyes you are right; there is no one more capable or powerful than you, Elanin, and I am sure that your "knight in shining armour" will turn up eventually, you are simply not giving him enough time!'

She could tell he was serious by the fact he used her proper name, but it stirred her Dovah blood to hear him mock her dreams of love and romance and companionship with his comment about knights in armour.

She felt the power bubble within her chest, and her already raised voice deepened dangerously when she replied;

'How dare you mock me, ghost! You have no right to make fun of my deepest hopes that I will reveal to none other than you simply because you are too stupid and arrogant to admit your own! Do you know how it hurts, that I can only tell my deepest secrets to a long dead assassin and when someone my own age asks, I must shrug it off? It hurts damnit, and you know nothing of my plight!'

Her face was set in a snarl now, and the air had begun to tremble with the force of her voice. Her slim hand rested threateningly upon the hilt of her blade, and Lucien too was feeling anger begin to simmer in his chest.

He flung out his arm, showing her the world around her.

'You do not understand what I am saying, Bright-Blade! I know your feelings, as I too have felt them, and I know that it feels as if you will remain alone for the rest of your days, but trust me when I say this, there is someone out there for you, and you are just being too insolent and sulky to realise that!'

He was shouting into her face now, and she whirled upon her feet and shouted into the sky, making the great oak shudder.

'FUS RO DAH it makes me mad! Curse whichever Divine decided it would be a good idea to make all those of the young blood burn for things they have denied them to have! Why make me yearn for a man, when none are willing to come forward?'

Her voice had died down to her quiet tones now, and Lucien cautiously approached her from behind. His hands hovered above her trembling shoulders, and deciding it was worth the risk, he embraced her from behind. He remained silent, and eventually her stiffened shoulders loosened. He rested his chin upon her head, unconsciously reminding her that despite her height, he still nearly topped seven feet.

'For your information, I am not as clueless as you think. I was but twenty when I was slain and I still felt those burns. But with practice you can ignore them, and this makes it all the more satisfying when your needs can finally be sated'

She twitched awkwardly in his arms, and he did not need to see her face to know that she was worrying at her lip again. Sensing that she was still un-consoled, he continued to reveal his own stories, that after all this time, still surprised himself;

'And in all the two hundred and twenty years my soul has been in existence, I have only ever lain with two women. And both of them were heartless, uncaring whores. Unlike you, I did not have the sense to wait. It still shames me to this day that I paid a woman to take my virginity, so great was my need to feel like a true man. It was not worth it. I have not given a thought to such things since'

Lucien's voice was clipped and tight now, and Elanin shivered. If it was possible, the spectre's embrace had cooled even further, and the ground around them was laced with the pale fog that he produced when angry.

It made her feel unimaginably guilty to hear his words. For the last few weeks, she had had a hopeless crush on the spirit, but she had not spoken a word. He was but a ghost; teasing him with such things as he cannot have would be cruel torture.

She turned slowly in his arms, but he did not meet her gaze. Instead he spoke to the horizon;

'Do not bother, Elanin. I have known for some time now'

She began her argument, but he cut her short.

'I can tell by the way you hold yourself, girl. You swagger instead of walk, and you wear clothes that are a size too tight. That and a few hundred years of experience.'

Elanin felt about 1 inch tall now, and she tried to wriggle from his grasp, but he held her tighter, and the half-Elf was helpless but to listen to what the assassin had to say.

'You said so yourself not a moment ago that I am the only person you trust completely. So just tell me. In all my years, I have seen any things that will always be worse than any news you bring me. Never be afraid to talk, Elle. Many men have gone mad with secrets they have kept, and I have watched their slow descent into madness. I would wish the world for you not to share their fate'

She heaved a great sigh, and when she spoke, her voice was spidered and shaky and almost imperceptible.

'I am sorry Lucien. But you must understand, these feelings in me…they are unlike anything else I have ever known. It is frightening. But you are right. For almost a month I have wanted you in a way that I would not consider appropriate, but I have not spoken a word because I did not think it would be fair for you to know I want you, but be helpless against it. You are but a ghost, a spectre. I can feel your arms, but I do not know if you can feel mine. I will not doing anything until I have found a way to give you flesh and blood. And until then, I cannot think of giving you what a woman holds most precious'

Lucien's heart was saddened by this, but he had known it to be true. But she was almost into the reaches of depression, and there was but one thing left he could do for her.

'You are correct in what you say, Listener. To me, you are but a fleeting breath of wind, or a feather light touch. I can feel almost nothing. This is the price I pay for immortality. But whilst I can feel nothing, you can. I dare not attempt anything more, for I have not lain with anyone in many, many years. I fear that such a rush of…need would be too much for an innocent. And I know this much, a woman's first should be gentle and slow, but so much as touch would release the animal inside me. Just the thought of it makes him rattle his chains'

Elanin was close enough to see into the shadow of his hood now, and he could see every tear in her eyelashes and every fleck of gold in her bright eyes. He had not felt fear this great in all his life, so it was slowly, so painfully slowly, that he gently raised her chin, and brought her face close to his. She could feel his cool breath against her skin, and his nose traced a gentle line from her ear to her chin.

The burns inside her raged into fires, and she trembled like a sapling in high winds.

Ever so gently, he laid his lips on hers, and Elanin felt a magnetic draw. She was helpless but to succumb, and quietly wind her arms about his neck. She reached up on her tip toes, and despite his lack of feeling, Lucien could feel all too vividly her supple form pressed against his own. The animal need roared and rattled his bonds to the point of almost breaking, but Lucien kept him firmly under control and he too shivered.

She was only his second kiss, and it was untested waters. But he remembered the tales his comrades had told; what pleased a woman, what left her hanging. What stoked her fires of need to the stars.

So he slowly began to move his lips against hers, and it was like a key fitting in a lock. She was all swollen from where she had worried at her lip, and her mouth was so soft and gentle. He needed more of her, so he wound his arms about her slim waist in a vice like grip, and curved her body to his like a bow.

She could almost smell him; he was so close to breaking the barrier between the spirit and mortal worlds. He almost smelt like sharpened metal, and soft leather, and something so dangerous that it smoked and stung at her.

And to him, her feather-like breaths almost reminded him of flowering meadows, and something called coffee he had tasted when on a contract in Hammerfell. And he could taste the power in her. The tang of the Void in her blood from being bound to the Night Mother. The smoke on her skin from the swift blood of dragons. And the sweet, seductive lure of Magick that lay yet undiscovered.

She was young and curious though, so somehow through the fires and mists that swirled in her head, she came up with the idea of moving her tongue against his lip, and Lucien let her in. she tasted even more intense, though this was more like a drop of water in an ocean so little could feel.

But Elanin could feel every ripple of the muscles in his jaw, she could taste every death threat he had ever uttered. It brought tears to the corners of her tightly closed eyes to know that he could feel practically nothing compared to her.

She tried so hard, so desperately hard, but her heart beat faster, and her lungs swelled, and she was torn from him to take the pointless nothing of the air around them. He rested his forehead upon hers, and she could almost see him as he might have been. Tall. Dark. Dangerous.

But for that summer's day, he could be nothing more than a shadow.

And Lucien's need almost burned him alive when he could feel nothing but fleeting glances to his skin.

Elanin grew that day. And she was forever emboldened by the fact her first kiss had been with someone she had complete trust in.

Despite the fact that he could have slit her throat on the spot.

Love was dangerous. And Lucien was even more so.

But it was all the more intoxicating.

**AN:Yay fluff :D I hoped I managed to keep Lucien in character o.O I swear to god though, in the next few chapters you guys will practically be drowning in all the lemons I have planned ;D**

**Reviews Welcome,**

**Tigress in Da Room**


	3. Chapter 3: Needlepoint

Ghost, Friend, Lover, Assassin: Chapter 3: Needlepoint

The young Altmer girl's eyes crossed in concentration upon the pieces of fur she was stitching together. Poking the sharp needle up and through the tough waterproof leather on the other side if the plush hairs, she stitched the pieces together neatly, wrist rising and falling rhythmically as she pulled the thread. However, when she came to a join several layers thick, she had to push very hard to pierce the needle through and when it stabbed through, it also carried on into her finger.

Dropping the furs in pain, she stood up and cursed, squeezing a little drop of blood from the wound:

"_Ey'a heppe!"_ Bloody hell!

Bringing the finger to her mouth, she sucked slightly on the little cut, eyes watering. The heavy leathers needle had pierced to the bone. It was then that she started to feel slightly ill.

She had had the needle enchanted so that as she stitched, the enchantment wove itself into the furs, saving her from having to spend money on a soul gem later. Though because the needle had also carried it's enchantment through into her blood, the Magicka was causing strange effects. A waterproofing spell and Dovah blood obviously did not mix well.

She whispered a name in summoning as she felt herself begin to fall, all sense of balance and direction disappearing:

"Lucien-"

Just before she cracked her head against the end of her bed, a strong pair of arms caught her around the shoulders as she fell, catching her. She went quite limp, her head turning into the crook of his arm.

"I've got you"

"Th-thanyou" she could barely form her words, as control over her muscles was slipping fast. Within seconds, it was all she could do to blink wearily as the Magicka ravaged her veins.

The spectre began to worry. His callused hands fluttered over her paling golden skin, her lips slightly parted as she panted in pain.

"What happened?"

She could not reply, so she slowly brought her gaze to the lightly shimmering needle on the floorboards. He gently laid her down on the furs of her bedspread, and then knelt to gingerly pick up the needle by its tail of thread.

"A needle? What about it?"

She blinked in pain, trying to get him to see the spell in the metal. Lucien brought the needle up to eye level, the little point spinning slowly. When it turned into a shadow, he saw the glowing blue lines and immediately understood what had happened.

"What is it enchanted with?"

Elanin licked her dry lips and croaked out:

"W-Water proof"

He nodded and set the needle down, then pushed up his cool sleeves.

"I am going to have to open your bodice"

She rolled her eyes, thinking _well there isn't exactly much I could do to stop you_

Swiftly unlacing the tight fabric so it loosened slightly, Lucien laid a cool palm over her collarbone.

"I shall try to feel where to Magicka is poisoning you. This may hurt"

Closing his eyes, the ghost pushed his consciousness into Elanin's struggling veins, casting about, searching. After seemingly hours of feeling his way through her blood, he finally found the dark little threads of Magick twisting beneath her skin. It was no wonder the spell was causing her so much ill. The icy threads of the waterproofing spell were knotted with bright sparks of her Dovah blood, fire and ice.

He reached out and touched the knot with his mind. Instantly, Elanin's body bucked and writhed, though he could not see her. The knot began to loosen, and soon enough the threads of Magick drifted away in shreds.

With a steep breath, Lucien returned from whatever strange state he had been in and held his hand over Elanin's brow. She was not feverish, which was a good sign.

He held her head in his lap, gently smoothing her white hair back from her slick skin. Her muscles twitched now and then, her eyelids sometimes shuddering. After an hour of this fight for consciousness, Elanin opened her golden eyes and smiled weakly up at Lucien.

"You were poisoned by Magicka, Elle, though it is now purged. Welcome back"

She blinked slightly and held the loosened edges of her bodice together with shaky fingers. Wordlessly, he laced it back up. He had only undone it so it was easier for her to breathe.

"Thank you"

"Not at all"

She leant up groggily for a hug and Lucien welcomed her into his cool arms.

"What were you making?"

"Hmm? Oh I was sewing some travel clothes for myself. I mean to visit Winterhold, so I shall need something more substantial than Mother's satin and lace"

"Winterhold? What do you wish to see there?"

She smiled wanly.

"I am hoping that there I may be able to find some way to make you…Human, once more."

He stiffened. He thought she had forgotten about that.

AN: Sorry for lack of updates. This Fic is going to be mostly drabbles, but there will be a main underlying storyline.

Reviews Welcome,

Tigress in Da Room


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